Words of the Wind
by xQueen Nothingx
Summary: A mysterious woman washes ashore with Odin's name on her tongue. Earl Haraldson knows to turn her away would incur the wrath of the gods, so he passes her off to the local loon. But Floki sees that this one has potential, and willingly takes the amnesia stricken woman into his home. Soon he uncovers more than he thought possible-Ragnarok has begun.
1. Norsewoman

Chapter 1

A woman washed up to the docks unnoticed, her pale skin almost translucent in the light of the mid-morning sun. Both men and women worked, servants alongside their masters, none taking heed to the redhead that floated slowly towards them.

"Ahh! Dead body!" A woman screamed, horrified at what had bumped into her.

Suddenly green eyes opened to greet the sky, lunges heaving to expel the liquid within. Alighting on the foreign woman's movement, two nearby men splashed into the bay, pulling her to her feet and dragging her to shore.

"Miss, miss?" The smaller of the two patted her cheek gently, trying to hold her field of vision as she sputtered to life.

"It doesn't seem like she can hear us," the other man said.

"Water," the woman mumbled as the men struggled to support her body, straining under the weight of her strange wet clothes.

"Doesn't seem to be too bright in the morning, huh Jorn?" The first man joked.

"Naw, don't say that now, Agnarl. This little girlie probably won't know her arse from a hole in the ground until we get some warmth and food into her," Jorn replied as his wife surveyed the woman now laying motionless on the worn timbers of the dock.

"I think you're right, my love," Frigg replied, wrapping the woman in a coarse wool blanket, "but shes in good hands now."

"What do you propose we do with her, my Earl?" Siggy asked, kneeling before her husband.

Earl Haraldson gave the woman an irritated look, ignoring her comment to further contemplate its subject. He found the woman to be attractive, except that flaming plume atop her scalp. He had never liked redheads, ever since his first love shattered his heart. No, adding her to his collection of servants was out of the question.

"We will sell her," he declared, fighting to banish unwanted memories.

"That is the perfect plan, my love." Siggy continued, walking in a deliberately sultry strut.

"Why do you think so?" Haraldson asked, watching as his beautiful bride draped herself over his aging form.

Siggy was taken aback, not wanting to share her true feelings of jealousy, "I-I don't know my Lord. I think so because it is your will."

"I know you better than that, know you to posses more intellect, and I also know you to be jealous," The man teased, bringing the woman more closely into his arms.

A small knock on the door interrupted the couple as they began to get intimate. With a grudging air, Siggy rose to attend the door.

"My brother, we have almost prepared the girl for whatever fate you have decided for her." Knut said, eyes lit with excitement.

"Have you found any information regarding her origin?" Haraldson snapped, shoving his wife away as she laid a placating hand on his shoulder.

"None forthcoming, sir, though we guess that she is a shield maiden. She speaks our language, even our local terms, and has been speaking Odin's name since she awoke." Knut replied.

"Then we cannot sell her as a slave, it would anger the gods." Siggy interjected.

Earl Haraldson held up a hand to silence his wife, "Has she said anything else?"

"Nothing, sir. It appears she cannot remember anything about her identity, or what kind of life she led before now." Knut answered, seeming to grow bored of this talk.

"Hm," Haraldson sat back in his grand chair to contemplate the information he had just received. He had no interest in housing another woman, let alone some cast off from a nearby village. He did, however, have some payback to exact.

"Send her to Floki, task him with her care until she regains her memory. When the gods have been pleased, we will send her back to whence she came." his voice rang through the silence while the other two looked at him in confusion, "Let him house this burden, a lesson to ship builders who think they can test the patience their Earl."

"A fine idea, my love, to teach him a lesson." Siggy agreed immediately. Both the men looked at her with unsurprised expressions before dismissing the comment.

"We must get you ready, for your new home." the servant girl explained, trying for the fifth time to remove the strange woman's clothes.

"No." she said simply, drawing the fabric closer to her body despite its cold dampness.

"It's nothing we haven't got ourselves," another servant interjected.

"No." the woman insisted once more, eyebrows drawing together in an expression of consternation. She could not quite fathom why, but she felt that letting these people see her naked was the last thing she should do. She wished that they would just leave her alone, even if that meant turning her loose in the nearby forest as they had previously discussed. She did not know how she acquired the skill, but she did know that she could survive in the wooded depths. And they would be a lot more pleasant, without so many people asking her questions that she could not yet answer. They were simple enough, which only caused anxiety and sadness to well up within her, leading to a deeper frustration. Where _had_ she come from, anyway? Did she have loved ones whom were worrying for her?

"Please, Earl Haraldson will punish us," a brown haired girl pleaded, looking scarcely old enough for her cycle.

"Does he have sex with you?" the woman asked, changing the subject.

"Yes, but that is another matter. Please, put these on," she replied, pushing a bundle of clothes into the woman's arms.

"Is it of your own will?" the redhead continued, green eyes piercing into the young girl.

She cast her gaze towards the ground, a sullen expression crossing her features. The woman looked positively furious, and came to stand quite close to the girl.

"You must not let him." she said simply, though her words carried a force of their own.

"It is forbidden to speak of such things," an aging blonde interjected, pushing the girl behind her.

"Is it you that forbids me?" the woman continued.

"No, it is Earl Haraldson. Certainly you are not so plain as to misunderstand his authority?" she shot back hotly.

"Will he kill me?" The flame haired woman continued to press, voice casual and amused.

"Yes, he will execute you publicly." the elder replied, eyes wide as if she could not believe that she was having this discussion.

"Hilda, Floki is here for the woman." a man spoke, drawing the attention of all in the room.

"Please, give us more time. She's being stubborn." the first woman pleaded. The man looked to her fondly and nodded, taking a seat nearby.

"Change into those clothes _now_, missy." the elder woman, Hilda, commanded, shoving the redhead into a small adjoining room, "If you won't let us do it, then do it yourself."

Now alone, the woman sighed and leaned against the wall, trying to force her foggy brain into clarity. Unfolding the clothes, she found them to be a little smaller than her size. Whomever they had been made for had narrow shoulders and a smaller bust, causing the woman's skin to stick out in odd places.

"What's your name?" She whispered to her reflection in the glass window, perturbed by the fact that the answer was not readily called upon, "Who are you?"

"Time's up," Hilda called from the doorway, a sad frown crossing her face. In an odd moment of sympathy, she decided to soothe the woman, "I know you're having a hard time right now. You really did get lucky, Floki is a kind man." _Much kinder than Earl Haraldson, that is,_ she thought, but left the words unspoken for her own sake.

"Who is this Floki, that I am to be given to like property?" the new woman asked disdainfully, inspecting a goblet laying on a nearby table.

"He is a shipwright, crafts the finest I've seen. And you, my dear, are a free Norsewoman, largely due to the fact that Odin's name was one of the first things to come off that sharp tongue of yours," Hilda explained, taking on a teasing tone.

The woman smiled warmly at her jest, though it was tight lipped and quickly turned into a frown, "Then why am I being given to him?"

"So the gods will smile upon this village. Don't worry, Floki is instructed to see to it that you get home once you remember who you are. Now, lets _go_," Hilda said, practically pushing the redhead back out of the room. She was then lead down a long, cold hallway into a wider room, with a fireplace glowing brightly in the center with its last dying embers.

Earl Haraldson sat atop his throne, legs splayed wide in a stance of ease. Though, the woman noticed, his whole body was rigid. He was also tapping one finger repetitively on an oaken armrest, betraying his anxiety.

_This man is a liar,_ the woman thought, narrowing her eyes. A beautiful woman wearing the finest homespun emerged from behind the imposing seat, taking her place on one the other armrest.

"Alright, Floki. By the order of your Earl, I charge you with the care of this woman. When she regains her memories, you are to take her safely back to wherever it is that she was spawned." Haraldson spoke grandly.

A small man, eyes lined with kohl, walked forward from a group of men standing opposite the Earl. His head turned as the woman approached, eyes dancing at the sight of the woman with hair like Hel's fire. She was standing tall, regarding the Earl with a secret distrust. _But Floki can see through you, imp!_ He thought as he rubbed his hands, excited by the twist his life had taken this day.

"And why does the Earl task humble Floki with such an honor?" he inquired, eyes flashing. There had to be a catch, he was sure of it. He knew the Earl had been waiting to punish him for assisting Ragnar with his mission to discover-and eventually conquer-new lands.

The Earl laughed deeply, letting the bottom of his stomach flop about idly, "Are you challenging the word of your Earl?"

"No, of course not, Earl Haraldson." Floki replied carefully.

"Then take her and go." the Earl ordered, smiling with satisfaction as his personally appointed officials laughed with the mocking tone he had taken.

_Just you wait,_ Floki thought, _one day the gods will take notice of you, and perhaps in not the way you like!_

"Floki." the woman spoke, turning all eyes towards her. She walked towards the man, curiosity in her eyes. Floki straightened his posture and took the woman's hand, holding onto it tightly.

"I believe we have overstayed our welcome," he spoke only to her, those dark eyes of his flashing in the dim light of the remaining torches-the Earl and his men were already departing.

The woman smiled, green eyes dancing with the enigmatic Floki's. "I think that there is much more to you than meets the eye," she stated with amusement.

The men that stood with Floki now erupted into a deep chorus of laughter, amused by the woman's strong attitude.

"I think Lagertha will like this one." one of the shorter men remarked, though by his posture it was evident he was the force of dominance in this particular dynamic.

"Is she your wife?" the woman asked.

"Yes. Would you like to meet her?" the man replied, cocking his head as he spoke, expression somehow challenging the woman to accept his offer. Though, he knew it was really an offer, and a kind one at that.

"I would, if circumstances permit." the redhead bowed in gratitude, though only slightly.

"Yeah, I wouldn't be surprised if we didn't see Floki for a few days!" a dark haired man joked, ribbing the leader as the entire company laughed.

"Alright, alright. The lady has had a trying day, it's time to get her home." Floki deflected the rub, though he couldn't help but chuckle with the others.

"What is her name, anyway?" the dark haired man questioned, turning all eyes once more to the strange woman.

"I cannot remember," she stated with a shrug of her shoulders.

Floki held a hand to his face while he contemplated this. "Then I shall name you Skuld," he spoke with finality, seeming pleased with his selection.

"And what makes you think you are fit to name me?" the woman asked boldly, amusement flashing in her eyes. She couldn't help but be entranced by the man to whom she had been tasked. His thin, dark hair stuck up in every direction, lending a wild edge to his appearance. His movements were sporadic, yet graceful, his voice high and excited, yet at times it took on a low, dangerous octave. His posture was perfect, yet randomly he chose to assume a hunched stance, appearing crooked and spidery. The dark lining around his eyes made it hard to guess his expression, furthering the air of mystery that surrounded him.

Floki chuckled, giving the girl a mischievous expression, "Like you said, there are a lot of things about this one you have yet to discover!"

A/N: Alrighty, now the show can begin! Updates will happen weekly, not another yearly update fic!


	2. The First Death

Words of the Wind

Chapter 2

"I'm sorry, Floki. I'm sure she's much happier now," Skuld said tactfully, sipping her cup of tea. She could not recall ever owning a servant, and had no advice to soothe the sting of losing one. Apparently, his servant Helga had run away, tired of the other men in the village taking advantage of her when Floki was out during the raids.

From somewhere outside, a bird sounded a loud call. Floki looked up briefly, then cast another disdainful glance about his untidy abode. Bottles and feathers cluttered a small corner table, and strewn about were miscellaneous tools and carvings. To top it all off, a sticky layer of sawdust and dirt covered the floor in a five food radius from his work table.

"It's not Helga I'm worried about," Floki responded, stirring his pot of soup ruefully.

"Aren't you going to take a bite?" the woman asked, a small frown turning the corners of her mouth. After watching Floki flounder with the task, she had taken it upon herself to prepare their supper.

"You first," he chuckled, a sly expression creasing his brow.

As requested, Skuld took a long sip of the steaming broth. The nutty, salty taste washed over her tongue and she found that she was quite hungry, having forgotten Earl Haraldson had neglected to feed her. Floki mimicked the woman's actions, finishing with a loud smacking noise of satisfaction. Skuld beamed as wide as she could, returning to the bowl from which she was eagerly eating.

"I like a woman with a good apatite," Floki said flirtatiously.

"Do you now?" Skuld teased, her green eyes dancing with mischievous thoughts. The ship builder had a tendency to be forward, then unpredictably adopt a more coy tactic. The effect was entertaining, and Skuld quickly found herself all too ready to return the banter. She felt an immediate connection to the spry man, yet a stirring in her gut sent a foreboding shiver down her spine. She had been contemplating the strange occurrence, and came to the conclusion that it was a general feeling that bad events were going to take place. She was afraid that Floki would hurt her in some way, but the more she thought about it the more she felt that it was wrong.

"What's the matter?" Floki asked, having taken notice to her long pause and thoughtful expression. The woman's wild red hair spilled about her shoulders in loose curls, moving slightly as she served herself more soup. Floki couldn't help the stirring he felt in his loins-it had been far too long since he felt a woman's touch.

"I don't know," Skuld answered truthfully, though her sentence was halted, revealing that she had left something unsaid. She smacked herself inwardly, mentally berating herself for not giving the reply enough thought..

"Really? Methinks otherwise," Floki countered, moving closer to his companion and laying a hand on her wrist. His eyes were piercing, flickering with a flame that told Skuld that he would not rest until his curiosity had been satiated.

"Well, you're wrong," she replied guardedly.

Suddenly, Floki had drawn close, inches away from Skuld's freckled nose. His eyes were livid, his presence seeming to flow from him and curl about the woman, thick and ominous, warning of his anger. He took hold of her arms firmly, pressing his thumbs into her flesh almost painfully.

"Do not keep secrets from me," he warned, shaking with the force of his words. From somewhere outside, nearby the door from the sound, came the long somber howl of a wolf.

Skuld was frozen, sensing the danger that now presented its self to her in full. She also felt an attraction to that danger, and her first impulse was to invite it. She was too confused to respond, at war with herself, fearful to provoke the man that had taken her into his home. On orders.

"Just a sense of foreboding," she said at last.

Floki peered into her eyes, as if he could read the answer of his choosing within their depths. Slowly, as if he was not quite sure, the shipwright uncurled his fingers from her pale skin and resumed his seat calmly.

"Do you get these, _senses_, often?" he inquired further.

"Yes," Skuld said immediately, but quickly found her memories were still enshrouded and definitely inaccessible. She swore, then turned back to Floki, "Well, I don't know."

"So, what was it like?" Floki asked, willing to let the subject change.

Skuld looked at him with a slightly puzzled expression, "What do you mean?"

"Being put in with Earl Haraldson's personal flock," he clarified.

"Well, they were all scared to death of him," Skuld remarked, pity rising in her chest, for she absolutely did not condone senseless malice.

"Aye, and not just them," Floki chuckled, eyes far away as memories floated past his vision.

"Are you afraid?" Skuld asked dangerously.

Floki laughed, wild and true, "I'd let Ragnarok swallow me whole before that happens!"

"Now it's my turn to like what I see," Skuld teased playfully, angling her head so her hair would reflect the light of the fire.

Floki lowered his gaze and raked the woman over with heated eyes, "Don't play games that you are not yet ready to finish, woman."

"Odin be damned," Ragnar spoke, motioning for the crowd gathered around him to step back. Skuld struggled to see from the ground as Floki attempted to climb aboard a cart to survey the damage.

"Ooo, looks like we've got a dead one," he remarked, casting a glance downward towards his companion.

"Anybody important?" Skuld asked.

"It's the Earl's brother," Floki divulged, a sinister smile briefly crossing his face. He rubbed a hand through his hair as he masked his elation, jumping from the cart and grabbing the flame haired woman by the arm. He pulled her closer to the scene, placing a hand on Ragnar's shoulder to alert him to his arrival.

"Oh, Floki," Ragnar greeted tiredly, clasping the ragged man's forearm affectionately.

"What seems to be the trouble?" Floki questioned, bopping his head around as he surveyed the villager's reactions.

Ragnar shook his head and stepped back, letting Floki survey the body. In the middle of the man's chest, a strange glowing chunk of ice protruded like a precious gem.

Floki drew close, looking at the item intently. Slowly, he withdrew a cloth from the waistband of his pants and grabbed the strange material. With a quick jerk, he had extracted the deadly item.

At the sight of it's perfect cone Skuld's heart skipped a beat. Some sort of odd rage ripped at her heart, and she felt as if she could vomit.

"What do you make of it, Skuld?" Floki asked, holding the icy spike for her to scrutinize.

"What?" She asked, feeling disoriented.

"Have you seen anything like this before?" Floki clarified, holding it closer for her inspection.

Skuld felt a small flicker of recognition, then it was gone. Next followed a crushing feeling of foreboding, a powerful river that bled dry before Skuld could attempt to make sense of the jarring wave. Reaching out, she fingered the jagged end, careful not to touch the blood.

As her fingers made contact with the material, she felt a cold wind all around her. It ripped and tore at the dress Floki had given her, made it difficult to keep her eyes open. It contained no trace of life, just the bitter empty scent of a tundra waste. Yet, it was familiar somehow.

Holding an arm in front of her face, Skuld struggled to make out her surroundings. Floki, Ragnar, and the rest of the village had vanished. It appeared that she was all alone, surrounded by great mountains of ice and rock, as intimidating as they were beautiful. The ice seemed to shimmer with a light of it's own, giving off a faint blue florescence.

Great booming cracks began in the distance, rhythmic and steady. Skuld felt as if the sound were familiar, and listened closely. Fear stole into her heart as she began to realize that dreadful pattern-great and powerful strides. And they were growing closer and closer to her location.

Fighting the wind, Skuld ran for the shelter of the ice mountains, struggling to find some crevice to provide adequate cover. She began to run out of breath as she leaned on the smooth mountain side, casting a wild glance around for somewhere, anywhere that wasn't out in the open. But she was in no such luck; the climate had worn away all the dips and gullies, folds and creases. The footsteps grew closer, then finally stopped.

Skuld gasped as she beheld some sort of giant, blue of skin and black of hair. He was wearing some sort of hide, clumsily wrapped around his body and leaving much of it exposed. His uncovered legs stretched below a mountain ridge as he bent closer to the woman, surveying her with an evil chuckle.

The woman ran, adrenaline pushing her past whatever barriers held her back. She wound around a corner and almost flew right past a small opening, skidding on her heels and doubling back just in time to run inside. The giant's hand crashed down outside the entrance, sending her head over heels, skidding across the icy floor. Then, the mountain began to shudder. Huge stalactites crashed before Skuld, breaking apart into a thousand pieces on the ground. Large rocks and pieces of ice crumbled from the surrounding earth and pelted the woman on the head.

Backing up against the wall, she waited in a protective stance. Within seconds, the worst had played out, though Skuld quickly realized that she was trapped. Despite her frightening situation, she couldn't help but be relieved. At least the giant couldn't get her here.

A rumbling sounded once more, alerting Skuld to another cave in. The pile of rubble behind which she was trapped began to quake, and soon great blue fingers burst forth from the wreckage.

Skuld screamed as she backed up against the wall, picking up a rock and jamming it between one gnarled fingernail and the tender flesh beneath.

She heard a distant howl of rage, the hand slamming down on the ground and pressing further into the cavern. Soon, it smashed her against the wall, fingers wrapping tightly around her body and snapping two of her ribs.

Skuld cried out in pain and attempted to push her body from the beast's grasp, struggling to breathe as it scraped her head across the jagged ceiling. A fiery pain erupted form behind her eyes, and soon she felt the warm sticky sensation of blood pooling in her hair.

The woman clutched onto a boulder, struggling to find some weapon with which to fight to her last breath. If she was going to die, she would serve the gods in Valhalla.

The giant pulled her higher and higher into the air, lifting her above his head and opening its great maw.

Skuld smashed the boulder into its eye before it could drop her, though it released her as soon as the injury was made. She watched numbly as its jaws grew larger before her, then she dropped wetly onto its tongue. She did not even think to take a deep breath as it closed its mouth and swallowed her whole.

She could see nothing, but feel the sensation of falling. Great muscles pushed against her body, forcing her farther and farther down into the stomach of the beast. She hit air, then came crashing down into a hot pool of liquid that stung her skin. She thrashed against it, attempting to swim towards anything she could grab onto. The bile began to burn her skin more and more, the white hot pain growing and growing as her flesh was dissolving away.

Finally, the pain took her.


	3. The Kiss of Friendship?

Hey! Back from a long yank around with comcast. Sorry for the delay, I plan on updating every week or two weeks depending on work and other stories. Hope y'all enjoy where this is heading and thank you lots for all the follows, your support really motivates me!

Words of the Wind

Chapter 3

Ragnar's face was red as he gazed upon the young woman laying on a soft bed of heather in Floki's hut. He felt distinctly put upon, as if this burden might be the straw that broke the dam holding back his frustration.

"Earl Haraldson will no doubt grow suspicious," Floki sighed as he looked into the depths of a tankard of mead.

"Perhaps not. With the festival so close, he will not want to displease The Gods," Ragnar reasoned, attempting to roll the tension from his shoulders. He briefly longed for his wife, her soothing hands working out all the aches from his back.

"Indeed," Floki remarked. Lifting his tankard, he drained the contents and stood with purpose.

"What are you thinking?" Ragnar questioned, hopeful to glean one of Floki's coveted insights.

"That is what I must discover," he replied cryptically, disappearing into the back of the house.

He returned only moments later, his expression grave, "It's the Earl."

A loud bang on the door announced his arrival. "Open up Floki!" knocking harder this time, "I know you're in there."

Floki looked at his esteemed friend and approached the door. Reluctantly, he opened it just a slit to peer out at Haraldson's grizzled face. "Yes?"

"The woman's presence here displeases The Gods. It has been decided that she is to be sacrificed three days from now at the festival. Until we depart, she is to remain here and is expressly forbidden to leave under any circumstance. Do you understand?" Haraldson announced triumphantly.

Floki looked at the miserable tyrant for a long minute. He was at a loss for words, yet not lacking in fury. Somewhere, he wondered if a strange woman was worth the risk and the trouble.

"Your Earl asked you a question," a young man bristled, making sure that the shiny sword on his hip caught Floki's eye. He recognized the boy's face; he was Tollfdir's boy.

The crimson haired woman began to grow restless, emerging from her deep slumber. Lagertha moved to her side, scanning her face for signs of consciousness. The woman's brow furrowed and one hand rose into the air.

"F...F..." she started, but could not continue through the cloud of sleep. Lagertha guessed that she was calling for Floki, so she hurried into the back room to remove him from her husband's side. When she returned, the woman still had one hand raised and this time her other was clutching at her throat as if she were choking.

"R...Ragnar..." she was struggling to speak, sending a hot streak of anger through Lagertha as she wondered what sorts of dreams about her husband this woman was having.

Lagertha, Ragnar, and Floki moved closer to the girl. Ragnar bent over her lips to hear her whispered words, ignoring a glare from his love.

"Ragnarok...has...begun," the woman finally managed to breathe before collapsing once more into a still heap.

A chill suddenly swept the room. As if the words had summoned bitter winds, the objects in Floki's hut rustled with the unease the three companions felt. They looked at each other, faces hollow masks of fear, for they knew what the woman spoke was true.

It was time to prepare.

Earl Haraldson had to really work to manipulate the simple townsfolk into dismissing the ominous signal from Asgard. It took the combined effort of his wife and himself to weave soothing tales, to placate the populace. This only brought him further irritation-he was sure this whole event was staged by his newest enemy, Ragnar, and his flock of irritable buffoons.

Well, the Earl thought with satisfaction, it would not be long before Ragnar saw the oaken beams of Valhalla. He was going to make sure of that.

Skuld awoke to Lagertha's faint singing in the gloomy shadows of the hut. She sat up quite easily and surveyed the shocked faces of the assembled Norsemen, and Norsewoman. Lagertha paused in her singing, moving her hands so her husband could rise from her lap. Floki appeared unconcerned, and returned to his mead.

"Skuld, what happened?" Ragnar addressed the girl, coming to loom in her face.

The woman glared up into his urging countenance, struggling to swipe the sleep from her eyes. "Can't a woman get a flagon of mead first?" she asked, raising a brow.

Lagertha laughed and brought Skuld her requested drink. "Woman after my own heart," she remarked, "I'm Lagertha, Ragnar's wife."

Skuld instantly warmed from her frosty countenance and let out her own small sound of amusement, "It's good to finally meet you. For a moment, I thought Ragnar was going to have me pay him for the honor."

Lagertha's face seemed to light up from the inside out as she turned to face her love, "Ragnar, what have I told you about being polite?"

The man simply smiled warmly at his wife, for he knew the chide was only to hide her blush. After a moment, the two parted gazes and it would be a lie to deny the warmth didn't linger in the little room.

In the darkness, Skuld smiled. She felt as if she hadn't been anywhere close to relaxed since she awoke wet and freezing among the docks, every encounter vaguely hostile or double edged. Even happiness that wasn't hers warmed the bitter casing she had withdrawn into, and she was content to linger in the moment.

"Now that we've touched on our sentiments, how about we get down to business, eh?" Floki interrupted shrewdly.

"Thank you, Floki, for interrupting the only moment of peace I'm likely to get for some time," Skuld quipped, then covered her mouth in surprise.

Floki chuckled, "Be careful what you wish for."

"What are you hiding behind those words?" Skuld shot back.

"Well, it seems Earl Haraldson has found a way to dispose of you," Floki explained mockingly.

The woman's irritation was plain, so she turned to Lagertha and Ragnar. "Would either of you mind explaining to me what is going on?" she asked.

Ragnar sighed, "I'm sorry, but the Earl intends to sacrifice you to the gods."

Skuld huffed her displeasure and looked at her feet, "Then I must escape."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," Floki pointed out.

"Do you think you can stop me?" Skuld responded, a hint of amusement gracing her own tone.

"Is that a challenge?" Floki rose from his seat and began to stalk towards the woman like a predator stalks its prey. Lagertha made as if she were to interrupt, but Ragnar placed a heavy hand on her shoulder and gave her an amused expression.

Skuld also rose from her bed, still dressed in a large tunic that came down to her knees. Her crimson hair flew about her in a tangled halo, a fierce expression giving her the appearance of a banshee. Her heart was hammering fiercely as ire rose within her, fueling her. She wasn't sure if she could best Floki straight from bed, but she was sure she could put a few good bruises on him.

Floki reached out towards the girl, the flame from a nearby candle dancing into his hand. Skuld's eyes widened at the display, yet she still watched with calm assessment. "Are you afraid?" he teased.

"No, Floki," Skuld spoke the truth, reaching out with lightning speed, tightly grasping his small hand in her own and snuffing out the flame. Now the hut lay still in complete darkness, the only sound the howl of the wind and soft breathing.

Floki inched closer to the woman, allowing her to keep a tight hold on his right hand. Soon, their chests bumped and he rose on his toes so she could feel the heat of his breath upon her face and neck. "Good."

Skuld did not flinch under his attempt at intimidation, though she knew it was her time to act. She quickly jerked on his arm before he had the chance to find his balance again, moving to the side has his body plummeted towards her. She heard him fall on the bed with a small 'oomph' and was upon him in a heartbeat.

Floki was wise to this trick. He spun around before he could land, though he did get a bit winded, and was ready for the woman's attack. He snatched her up in a tight vice grip and held her immobile, feeling the soft press of her cheek against his own. Suddenly, it seemed as if his heart were constricting in his chest. Her scent was all around him, and he felt as if every inhale brought him alive. As Ragnar urged a sputtering candle to life, he could make out her pale features.

When he met her eyes, his body grew still. They were a more vivid shade of green, though just around the edges they were beginning to tinge with metallic flecks of gold and silver. Her face was a mask of perfect outrage, with a trace of something else. Sadness, Floki realized with a jolt, true sadness. Now that he had made the connection, the howling void she had been so careful to hide was plain as day. And he knew she had to face it utterly and completely alone.

"Floki, I think that's enough," Ragnar spoke, though the words were hollow in Floki's ears. True sympathy washed over him for the first time as he felt some strange bond solidify inside him. Confused, and muddled, Floki did the only thing he could think of.

"I'm sorry," he stated softly, now cradling the shocked woman. He looked straight into her eyes, brushed the hair from her face, and kissed her.


End file.
